He made his announcement quite quietly during a pause in the talk just after dinner. And it was received, as he had anticipated, in a stupefied silence.
“What!” said Mr. Whately at last. “Engaged to Muriel Marston!”
“Yes, Muriel Marston, the daughter of my employer, and I’m to become a junior partner in the firm.”
“But——” Mr. Whately paused. He was not equal to the pressure of the situation. He was not perplexed by the ethics of Roland’s action; his critical faculties had only appreciated the first fact, that a plan had been altered, and he was always thrown off his balance by the alteration of any plan. He was accustomed to thinking along grooves; he distrusted sidings. He got no further than the initial “But.” His wife, however, had recovered from the shock and was by now able to face the matter squarely. When she spoke her voice was even.
“Now, please, Roland, we want to know all about this. When did you propose to Miss Marston?”
“During the week-end—on Saturday evening.”
“And her parents agree to it?”
“Yes, yes,” said Roland, a little impatiently. “Didn’t I tell you that I’ve been offered a junior partnership in his business?”
“Of course; I forgot. I’m sorry. This is rather difficult for us. Now, you say——”
But at this point her husband, whose thoughts had by now traveled a certain distance along the new groove, interrupted her.